"I don't like it. Not at all."
"Well, it's a bit late to change the plan now, isn't it?"
"Jaheira can go in my place. She'll keep them in line… and maybe she'll even kill Sarevok. It'll be a win for everyone…"
"That's not helping, Im. Quit pouting, it's not like we're going to be split up for that long." Greywulf chuckled as Imoen sulked beside him, watching as the group made final preparations before departing. He glanced at her as she leaned against the rocky cliffs, her bottom lip puffed out in a child-like display of unhappiness at the current situation. Despite his inclination to simply have a bit of fun at her admittedly overdone ill-temper, he simply rested a hand on her shoulder, getting her to glance at him, understanding and a tinge of sad acceptance in his eyes. "We'll all be fine and see each other on the other side. I promise."
"You bufflehead- you shouldn't make promises you can't keep, you know that?" Imoen shot back, but she began to drop the facade of childish emotions as her face grew more serious. "I wish we were sticking together. I hate it when we have to split up. Reminds me of... bad times."
He knew what she spoke of- Imoen had no need to clarify. Spellhold, the Underdark... too many memories wrapped up in those days, too many thoughts of tortures endured at the hands of the madman Irenicus, or the nights in the drow city of Ust Natha where she had thought her brother slain by a Balor.
She shuddered for a moment, then wrenched her thoughts away from such times. He watched, troubled by her inability to cope with those memories, even after so long, but she changed the subject quickly, easily, as was her wont. "So you're sending us down to the oasis again, right? What happens if that General and his men are still there? Not to say we couldn't handle ourselves, and I know Sarevok would love to wade through an army with that sword of his..."
"But it might be a bit much to handle, I know." Greywulf nodded. He didn't respond right away. This... this was the hardest part of it all. To separate his feelings, his concern for their safety with what needed to be done. To treat his friends, his family, as soldiers in a war they'd never asked for. Something he promised he'd never do. Something he had just told Sarevok he wouldn't do. Something that, to win this fight... would have to be done. And the time was now. "You'll all find a way. I know it. Between you, Solaufein, Haer'Dalis and Sarevok-"
"We'll all take out a bunch of them before getting slaughtered." Imoen snorted. It was a callous thing to say- she knew he hadn't made the choice to split them up lightly. But they were siblings. Brother and sister, in both blood and bond. Nothing could shake it- nothing should shake it.
"Do not worry, child. As loathe as I am to admit it when he is in earshot, Greywulf is right. Should the worst occur at the oasis when you return, it will not be in vain. You will find a way- I have faith in you." Jaheira approached with Minsc, the four old friends taking a few moments together before leaving. "Though I must admit, I am curious to find out just what has transpired with Haer'Dalis since our last meeting. He was... less than reliable back in Spellhold."
"Perhaps, but he seems eager to help now." Greywulf noted. "Not to mention his impression of me is... uncanny."
"Boo agrees." Minsc nodded, slapping one hand one Greywulf's shoulder with a grin before pointing at the tiefling, now clad in gray robes and makeup lathered on his face to hide his scars."Sometimes he is unsure of who is who when the bard begins his impersonation. You should go show Greywulf your impression, eh?"
The sorcerer cocked an eyebrow at Minsc for a moment as the ranger grinned at him, finally shrugging with acceptance. "Eh, Boo says perhaps I should leave the jokes to you and Imoen."
The ranger's attempt at lightening the mood was valiant, if ineffective. Greywulf smiled regardless and nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, Minsc. I... uh, I know this isn't going to be easy for all of us, but I want you to know that whatever happens out there..."
"Please, no more speeches or sappy goodbyes." Imoen cut in, though her tone was only half-serious. "If we're gonna do this, then we should just do it. Everyone's ready to go, and I don't know how much more of this standing around I can take..."
The sorcerer laughed, then nodded with a smile. "Fair enough. That's it then- Minsc, Jaheira, I'll teleport you and your group out first, then Imoen's group, then mine. With any luck I'll be able to summon everyone back here, but... well, if I can't, everyone remember where to meet up once we're through?"
"The plains south of the Windspear Hills- out of the way enough to avoid detection by Tethyr's army, but close enough to make in a few days travel." Jaheira confirmed.
"And the one to slay the forces of evil first buys the drinks for the rest!" Minsc boomed, raising a fist in triumph. "Let us be on our way!"
The ranger's enthusiasm was enough to lift their spirits, if only for a moment. They said their final goodbyes, then drifted apart, joining their groups as they prepared to traverse through the maw that formed the passageway out of the Pocket Plane. Greywulf cleared his thoughts, preparing to open the portals out- it would take them back to the place that at least one of them had just been to- for Minsc's group, Viconia had mentioned that when summoned to the Pocket Plane, she had been taking refuge in a small village just south of Trademeet, easily a few days' travel back to the deserts surrounding Amkethran, but none had been closer.
Greywulf steadied his hand, cleared his mind, and with a rush of magic, the glowing vortex of energy opened up. Minsc, Aerie, Viconia, Cernd and Jaheira strode through the portal, the half-elf druid only taking a brief moment to gaze at Greywulf before vanishing in the light.
Behind them, the others prepared to depart- Imoen paused, biting her lip once more before leaving Greywulf's side completely. "Hey... uh... I just wanted to say that-"
"No sappy goodbyes, right?" Greywulf cut her off gently. "I get it, Im. I really do. No matter what happens, we'll get through it together. You and me, all the way to the end, right?"
Imoen met his earnest eyes, then nodded with a smile. "Damn straight."
X X X X X X
The memory of her conversation with the closest thing she had to a family blasted through her mind as Imoen felt herself being transported through space-time, her body traveling faster than her mind could keep up with- before she even realized that the magical travel had ceased, she was standing under the noon-tide sun, in the midst of greenery and water surrounded by sand on all sides. The oasis in the desert- they were back. Right where they'd left from before...
"Hold! The Bhaalspawn and their fellows return!"
A shout managed to find her foggy hearing, and Imoen shook her head for a brief second before she blinked, trying to adjust quickly. Not that she and the others would be allowed much time. Swarming down toward their position from the sand dunes was a compliment of soldiers bearing the Tethyr banner- though the number of men who opposed them was significantly smaller than it had been when they'd fled previously. A cursory estimate showed at least three dozen men- mostly swordsmen but a few archers hanging back and maybe one or two mages by the cut of their robes.
"My, but you folk get into some terrible situations." Haer'Dalis murmured with a sideways grin to the thief-mage, as he quickly turned his face to a scowl, staring down the approaching soldiers with a look that was… well, Greywulf. A grimace of determination, that small grit of the teeth when things looked bad- he had it down. And under the gray hood and with the makeup covering some of his more distinguishing features… any passerby who saw him standing with the likes of Sarevok and Imoen would have to assume the worst.
"I give you one chance- lay down your arms and allow us safe passage, or we will not be responsible for what fate befalls you." Haer'Dalis commanded, no trace of the flowery language or the melodic tone that usually filled his voice. Had Imoen not traveled with her brother for so long, she might've been taken in by the deception. As it was, she could only hope that their pursuers hadn't studied her brother too much. Still, best not to let them focus on the impostor for too long.
"Come on folks... if we really wanted to kill you all we'd have done it already." Imoen challenged, fixing a confident smile on her face that she really didn't feel. "Yer all just lucky that Greywulf got his composure back. Now what say y'all clear a little path and we can go our separate ways, huh?"
"You waste your breath appealing to these simpletons, sister." Sarevok cut in, unsheathing the Blade of Chaos, the wicked blade gleaming in the hot desert sun. "Let us slaughter them and be done with it."
Behind the three- or at least two- Bhaalspawn, Solaufein withdrew further beneath his hood and cloak, slowly drawing a throwing knife from his belt and clutching it tightly in one hand, his other hand going to the wand that both Sarevok and he had been given in case their attempts at persuasion were less than successful. Solaufein hated back-up plans. If the original idea was poor enough to merit having not one but two back-ups, then it shouldn't have been attempted in the first place. And yet... somehow he had agreed to this foolishness.
He studied the mage in the back- he looked to be the eldest, probably the most powerful. The throwing knife could easily go the distance, although hitting his neck at range might be problematic. He sighed inaudibly, waiting to hear the resolution of their attempts at 'diplomacy'. It hadn't been that long since he'd left the Underdark for the surface, but he'd already realized something. Having friends made you get involved in stupid things.
"We will not be intimidated by the likes of you!" one of the Tethyrian men stepped forth from the others- he was an officer of some higher order in the army- no general, but more than likely the man Tombelthen had left in command of these others upon their initial retreat. "If you surrender, we can promise those who are not Bhaalspawn a fair trial. For you three, we will make your deaths as easy as possible."
"Oh gosh, those are our options? Well let me think!" Imoen said with both an excitement and a sarcasm that she had to fake. It was rapidly looking like this man would be as thickheaded as General Jamis had been- for as good as she was at talking her way out of things, it didn't look like this would be one of those times. Which if that was the case, meant escaping with their lives, and keeping the General's men on their tails so the others could go after the Five without interference.
"Brother, they are clearly unwilling to see reason. Simply give the order and I will have their carcasses rotting in the sun." Sarevok gestured to Haer'Dalis, and Imoen had to admit, the Deathbringer was selling the ruse quite well. In fact, the only thing that seemed off to her was how cooperative he was being. Murderous and dangerous to all bystanders, but cooperative nonetheless. Sarevok fixed his unearthly golden glare upon the captain of the Tethyr forces, and Imoen could begin to see the big warrior's presence take it's toll- knees started shaking, and sweat gleamed on the military man's forehead.
"Hmm... if not by persuasion, then perhaps by intimidation." Haer'Dalis murmured, just loud enough for the others to hear, before he threw back his cloak and raised one hand, letting a fireball ignite in his palm. The magics that the bard commanded were much less potent than anything Greywulf or Imoen could conjure, but to anyone watching, they would have no idea that the bard was not, in fact, a sorcerer. "Do you all truly wish to throw your lives away? You will not stop us, and your General has abandoned you here to fight this battle alone. Go and rejoin him to seek us out if you truly wish to test yourselves against us. This pursuit is folly."
"I...I-" their commander's will was breaking, faltering, but with the backing of so many soldiers, he might just turn to violence if pushed hard enough. Which was, of course, why Sarevok was fully prepared should this plan fail and the situation turn into a bloodbath. The Deathbringer flexed his grip once, twice, feeling the familiar weight of his sword in his hands as he waited for the opportune time to speak again. They would not allow them passage without some kind of compromise, that much he was certain of. Whether that meant slaughtering all of them or enacting the magics they had talked about earlier...
"No! You shall not bewitch us with your tainted blood! To arms, men! For Tethyr!" the commander finally shouted, raising his blade and charging forward with a shout from his troops-
A flash of light enveloped the whole army as Imoen and Haer'Dalis shouted trigger words to their spell sequencers, and both Sarevok and Solaufein produced wands and shouted the activation words...
The army stumbled, clutching their eyes and trying to blink away the sudden haze and fog that had overcome them- thundering across the desert sands toward their group were four monstrous figures, gleaming with power and unyielding strength. At their lead was the mighty sorcerer Greywulf, his gray robes whipping and whirling in the winds summoned by this arcane master of god-magics. His eyes flashed with the light of a thousand suns and his voice shook the very heavens as he spoke words that ripped the earth asunder, enveloping men in the cracks that formed beneath their feet. In one hand he held a surging bolt of lightning that he hurled at his foes, leaving charred skeletons behind. His other hand warped and changed by the second, becoming human, then demonic, growing long talons and red fur that could only be the beginning of his transformation into the avatar of Bhaal. Every solider who opposed him fell before his unyielding magics.
The drow warrior was almost impossible to see- he was a swirling mist of dusk and shadow, red, wraith like eyes enveloped in black, inky oblivion. Those he passed by gasped and fell to the ground as if he were the specter of Death itself, skin crumbling like old parchment from the bones of those who fell to his poisoned blade. He was not simply a form inside a hood and cloak- he was the shadow itself. The darkness. A formless, nameless fear that could seep past any defense- shields and swords could not pierce the veil, and all who tried were enveloped and left shivering in the cold before breathing their last.
Sarevok's mammoth form strode across the battlefield with impunity- his armor covered in blade after blade, he was a living embodiment of death and war that could not be touched by any, so great was his power and skill. His sword was pulsing with the blood of his victims- each life it claimed, it absorbed that blood and life and grew stronger. Even spells and powers of lightning and fire and ice all shattered against his armor and blade. A bolt of lightning soared toward him, but the Deathbringer's eyes flared, blazing with energy as he swung his sword into it, severing the energy in two and redirecting it as it turned on it's masters, frying the mages who had dared to attack this seasoned killer.
Imoen, the daughter of Bhaal, sauntered over the fallen bodies of her enemies, ruby-red lips pursed in amusement at those who would try to stop them as she threw her head back, running long nailed fingers through blonde tresses of hair that ran down the length of her back. Bare skin glowed with power as she leaned forward, her voluptuous form enticing those men who would dare gaze at her heavenly body clad only in silken robes and a chainmail brazier, before she let the magics of Bhaal blaze from her fingertips and-
"Ok, time out. Hold on just one dang second!" Imoen sputtered as Haer'Dalis paused. Imoen ran one hand across her face as she exhaled sharply. By the gods, now she remembered why she hated bards. "Just what the heck do y'think you're doing, huh?"
"Nothing more than you had asked, my dear." Haer'Dalis nodded, gesturing to the crowds of people all lying in the sand, fast asleep thanks to four Sleep spells cast simultaneously. The group would be out for at least a full day, and when they woke, they'd all remember something entirely... inaccurate. Though the measure of inaccuracy was getting slightly out of hand, if Imoen had anything to say about it. "Is something the problem, my wildflower? You asked me to craft a memory for each one of these sleeping beauties for you to introduce to their slumbering minds..."
Imoen's death glare finally elicited a sigh from the tiefling bard- he raised his hands in defeat, shaking his head. "Ah, but it appears you are not amused at my interpretation of events. If it makes you feel any better, all the sorceresses in the greatest of stories are blonde haired, ample bosomed seductresses. I was simply doing my part to immortalize your in the annals of this Realm."
"Yeah, well you can immortalize me wearing something that makes sense. Now let's get this thing finished up so we can get out of this desert. Wouldn't want the General to start nosing into the others' doings." Imoen grumbled as she raised her fingers to her temples, a soft glow surrounding them as she attempted to introduce Haer'Dalis visions to their minds.
As the bard continued his tale, false memories overwhelming the memories of their foes and replacing them with the fantasies of the tiefling, Solaufein shifted his weight, the wheels of his mind turning and turning. Sending the General and his army on a wild chase all throughout the desert, each man remembering something different, a different direction to search or a different lead to chase, that was all well and good, but he had learned long ago in the depths of Ust Natha that to truly defend yourself, a warrior could do no better than to strike deep into what the enemy considered their strength. To drive a wedge into the heart of their forces was demoralizing and unexpected- it could end a war before it could truly begin.
"I... have been thinking of this matter- there may be a way for us to better our chances of defeating these god-children while keeping Tethyr's eye fixed upon us." Solaufein mused. "I had not mentioned it to you yet, but one of the remaining god-children is most assuredly a drow- her assassins appeared in Letherel in an attempt to kill you, should you have remained there."
"Yeah... that sounds right." Imoen nodded with a grunt, blowing a strand of sticky hair from her face as she continued her work, gently twisting and turning through the mental passageways of the sleeping soldiers. "We got... hnh... attacked by drow in Saradush too. Said something about a leader named Sendai."
"I think I begin to see where you are headed, elf." Sarevok smiled broadly, although the look did not suit him. Somehow, even his smile sent chills down Imoen's spine. "You think we ought bring the fight to this Bhaalspawn rather than simply lead Tethyr's finest on a chase through the Realms. I find your idea much more compelling than a game of hide and seek."
"That... ugh... gragh... that still leaves us with the issue of an army to handle. I'm guessing she had more drau... haahh... more drow than the ones she sent after us." Imoen wheezed, the strain on her magics becoming greater as she finished the spell. Before she could say more, she whispered a final magic word to solidify the false memories and a burst of magic ended the spell, blowing her backward into the sandy dunes. The tiefling bard moved quickly,grabbing her by the shoulder and steadying her tottering form. "Ah... ahha... thanks for that. I almost forgive you for the chainmail bra. Almost."
"It seems my lot in life is to be subject to a never-ending stream of judgmental audiences and fickle listeners." the bard shook his head in mock sorrow. "How cruel fate can be at times. My wit and inspiration stifled not once but twice by yon raven's companions. The ptarmigan was just as opposed to some of my attempts at immortalizing her in song and verse."
"The ptarm- oh, you must be talking about Jaheira. Gods, I'm surprised you'd even dare tempt her like that." Imoen snorted, wiping sweat from her brow as she eventually pushed off of the bard's shoulder. "So don't keep us in suspense, Solaufein. What's yer big idea?"
"It'll take some legwork, but once we locate her we bring the fight to this Sendai." the drow said, trying to hold back the tight smile that was threatening to break out on his ebony features. "And should she truly bring an army to bear against us... well, it'll be quite handy that an army will be trailing us, won't it?"
"Ah... you would use the army of Tethyr, hellbent on killing all Bhaalspawn that cross their path, as fodder to clear a way to our true enemy?" Haer'Dalis eyes brightened and he threw his head back with a melodic laugh. "You are a man after my own heart, my dark hunting hawk. Let us see depart and proceed with all haste."
"Not too fast though- we wouldn't want to lose these guys completely." Imoen smirked, walking to Solaufein and slapping him across the back with a nod of appreciation. "You've got your moments, you know that?"
The drow elf met her eyes, his red pupils glinting with satisfaction. "I do, in fact."
X X X X X X X
The sigil stone, given to Anomen by the Knights of the Vigil, glowed brightly with radiant energy as the four adventurers passed through the veil that separated the insides of Watcher's Keep from the outer world. It felt as though they were passing through a pool of water, standing up. Greywulf suppressed a shiver as his skin tingled, the warding magics yielding to allow them passage as they ventured in. The passageway was a long stairwell leading down into darkness, torches lit with blue fire on either side of the hall.
Anomen descended first, holding his family shield tightly to his body as he gripped his mace in the other hand, ready for an attack from the darkness. Reynald was close behind the squire, his sword gripped in one hand and a tower shield in the other as his eyes flitted back and forth, watching for any kind of movement from below- while the magic flame on the torches along the walls was certainly enough to keep them from falling down the stairs, the torches below refused to shine until they were close enough to touch them, leaving them with only just enough light to see right where they were standing.
Nalia glanced toward the walls, the stone and rock engraved with countless symbols and inscriptions of Helm. As they continued the endless descent, it became abundantly clear to the noblewoman that the symbols were beginning to repeat themselves, a hypnotic loop of devotion, carved by either the guardian god's followers or the Lord of Duty himself. Nalia ran her fingers across the stone, leaving dust streaks and cobwebs in her wake, sign of how long it had been since there had been any travelers through that passage.
"It's a story... the inscriptions read, 'He also serves who stands and waits and watches carefully. Such is the lesson of the Great Guard, Helm of the Unsleeping Eyes. Let the events of this forgotten temple serve as an example to all who would follow the Vigilant One. Beneath this hallowed earth the avatar of the Watcher confronted great evil, a Prince of the Underplanes. Through steadfast perseverance Helm, Guardian of the Gods, fulfilled his sacred duty and bound the creature in the bowels of the temple that it might walk the world no more. Speak not the beast's name, ye Knights of the Vigil, but guard this place. Protect the wards which seal the Imprisoned One within, and remain ever watchful. Never betray your trust - such is the will of Helm. If you should fail and the Imprisoned One is set free, Lord Helm's wrath will be great and terrible.' That's all it says... just repeating and repeating..."
Nalia glanced at Greywulf, the sorcerer tracing the engravings with his eyes as the two continued downward. "Your runic script is very good- I recognized some of the symbols but others eluded me."
"The benefits of growing up in a center of learning." Greywulf chuckled softly, thinking back to his days in Candlekeep, under the watchful eye of the monks therein. "I learned more about old languages and runes than I ever wanted... but there are days when I'm glad Gorion didn't let me slip out of all my studies. It's been some time since we spoke, Lady Nalia. How has life treated you these past few months?"
"You choose a strange time to catch up, oh savior of my people." Nalia remarked dryly. " We could certainly have spoken whilst in your... how did you refer to it? A 'Pocket Plane'?"
"Something like that." Greywulf nodded. "It didn't seem to be the right time- although does it ever?"
"No... no, perhaps not." Nalia admitted. "But you asked a question, did you not? It has been... difficult at times, though my people are safe. I have done everything within my power to build my strength, enough to repel any further invaders or threats to those under my rule. I shall not let my people suffer as they did under the thumb of Firkraag ever again."
"Perhaps not, although I can't imagine that an invasion of orcs led by an ancient red dragon will happen every day." Greywulf countered. "Still, you seem to have gained a measure of self-confidence that was not there previously, if you don't mind me saying so."
"No... you have earned the right to speak to me on an equal level, I think." Nalia adjusted the hem of her robe as she continued their descent. "I am not as naïve as I once was- I know now what must be done to protect the commoners in my lands. I cannot rely on those with the blood of the divine to be awaiting my call when trouble strikes. I must be ready to deal harshly and swiftly with my enemies."
"That's the second time you've mentioned our aid as thought it were... something to be ashamed of." Greywulf frowned, glancing at their path, noting that a light was slowly becoming visible at the bottom, a landing that would lead to the first level of the Keep proper, if the directions of Brother Odren were to be trusted. "There is no weakness in accepting help in desperate times. I would not have called you and the others if I believed otherwise."
"Perhaps not for you... you are a single adventurer, responsible to no man except those who follow your lead on the battlefield." Nalia shook her head. "An entire province depends on my decisions, my ability to protect them. I cannot entrust their safety to anyone but myself. When we are done here, I shall have that power I seek."
Greywulf frowned as they finally touched bottom, an archway leading from the stairwell into a large hall, lit by floating globes of pale magic that floated in torch scones posted all around the massive room. Dust and cobwebs filled the air as the two warriors pushed slowly through the room- Greywulf and Nalia both conjured small floating lights to circle them, providing further illumination to the room.
The hall was a grand structure, supported by marble pillars that stretched from the base of the floor up and through the stone ceiling. There were smaller doorways leading to storerooms of some kind on each side of the path, though the most attention was most certainly given to the implements and the tools in the chamber before them. The doors that had not been torn down or the wood crumbled away showed some meager supplies within, sacks of long rotten grain and molded bread. Other side rooms looked to have jars and jars of oil, and torches stacked in abundance. Armor and weaponry lay in a final storeroom, thought it was covered in the tell-tale signs of age, with rust and dirt obscuring any hint of worth or use.
The main chamber was centered around a large rectangular structure, overshadowed on either side by twin statues of guardian knights, each with the Eye of Helm emblazoned in stone upon their massive breastplates. Their stone swords were raised high crossing as they extended to the ceiling, ready to strike the foes of the guardian god while the stone table between them was covered in gold coins and the blood of sacrifices long since offered. At the apex of the blades of the stone guardians, right where the swords crossed in midair before joining with the roof, a large bell hung, silent and unmoving. A long crack ran down one side of it, and it looked as though it were ready to fall at any time.
Golden bowls and implements of worship were strewn about, and the main altar in the center of the chamber looked as though it had stood untouched for centuries. No service had been made here, no supplication for Helm's aid in decades, if not longer. Though perhaps it spoke to how many had fallen in Helm's service... along the sides of the walls were sarcophagi, row upon row of them with a red cross and the Eye of Helm upon each lid. Were these the men who had given their spirits over to the Guardian God to protect this place as eternal vigil-keepers? Or men like Brother Odren and Brother Pol who had spent their days here, fulfilling a duty unending? If the Knights of the Vigil had been keeping watch within the Keep during their holy mission, laying to rest their brothers in arms... it had been some time since they claimed this level of the dungeon for their own dwelling.
They were too deep in now to continue small talk- Greywulf let the words he had been planning to say die on his tongue, but her manner, her words were... troubling. She was here not for Anomen's cause, or his own, but for power? That was not something he could fault completely, the treasures and magics that Watcher's Keep was renowned to hold were legendary, but the way she had talked of it- there was a hunger in her voice, a desire for power that he had heard in only a scant few mages in his time. Edwin, the Red Wizard of Thay. Semaj, one of Sarevok's lieutenants who fancied himself a lich-to-be in the service of the new Lord of Murder.
"By the gods... this place is massive. I can feel the divine energy from Helm's presence radiating through her even today, so far removed from when He constructed this place..." Anomen whispered as Nalia moved to his side, leaving Greywulf at the rear. The half-elf swallowed tightly, trying to push away the last comparison from his thoughts. Irenicus, the mad sorcerer of Suldenesselar.
"I recognize these implements- this was a Temple to Helm at one time." Anomen murmured, slowly slipping the pommel strap of his mace onto his belt ring, letting the weapon rest at his side for the moment. "I used many tools such as these in my time with the priesthood before joining the Order."
"Perhaps, but these are so old... how long has this place stood in vigilance over the beast who lurks below?" Reynald questioned. "I do not have a good feeling for this place, my friends. Whatever evil is lurking below, it must not be allowed to escape."
"Your devotion is commendable, though of little use at the moment." Nalia remarked, her eyes drifting back and forth among the different items that lay scattered around the room. "I can sense great magic located... there. In the center of the chamber. The first seal lies before us."
The group looked down, their eyes slowly opened to what truly lay beneath their feet. They scattered, taking in the true symbol engraved upon the floor over which they had so recently tread. Directly beneath the large bell hanging above them was a great Eye within an open gauntlet, emblazoned with fire and power. When they were silent, listening and reaching out with all their senses, the tingle of power and barrier magic over that portion of the floor was tangible, even to those unskilled in the arcane schools of magic. Nalia leaned over to touch the engraving- as her fingertips brushed the dusty stone, she frowned, murmuring arcane words- a light began to flash at her fingertips as Anomen's eyes widened- he lurched forward, shouting an alarm. "Don't-!"
Nalia screamed as energy illuminated her form, her hair standing on end as she was hurled backwards with the discharge of barrier magic set in place by Helm himself. Reynald hurled himself forward to catch her body, saving her from a rough collision with one of the standing pillars that encircled the room. Nalia groaned as the others rushed to the two of them, Reynald helping the noblewoman to a steady footing. "Are you all right, milady?"
"Ah... perhaps, yes. I think so." Nalia exhaled, shaking her head with a dazed smile. "It would seem that conventional magics are of little use against this ward- no wonder, if it was truly placed by Helm himself. Still, there is little doubt that the route we seek lies beneath us. The only question now is how to open that route."
"I am simply glad for your safety- I would never have forgiven myself should harm come to you down here in this forgotten dungeon." Reynald said with bowed head, clenching one gauntlet to his chest. "With your permission, I would act as your bodyguard whilst we descend this place."
Nalia paused a moment, then laughed, a light, lilting sound that bore no trace of ridicule, but of surprise and approval. "Well, I could hardly deny such a chivalrous gesture! I grant your request, Reynald de Chatillon. May your sword be ever sharp, your shield at the ready to defend the honor of the lands of De'Arnise."
"My, but somebody seems infatuated." Anomen leaned to Greywulf with a smile, whispering in an aside. "I wouldn't be surprised if Reynald came on this quest solely to impress Lady Nalia."
Greywulf watched, a brief chuckle escaping his lips, but truth be told, it wasn't Reynald he was concerned about. He coughed gently, drawing the attention of the others. "Well then... now that we know what kind of wards we're looking at... and where we need to be focusing our attention, I suggest we split up a bit. There must be some kind of sign in this old place of how to bypass the seal and keep moving."
"This Temple is massive... but you are right." Anomen admitted, flexing his shoulder for a moment, the clanking of metal on metal echoing through the dusty hall as his pauldron shifted. "If Lady Nalia and Reynald wish to search the storerooms, Greywulf and I shall examine the main foyer for clues. Perhaps there is some inscription, or a tome with written instruction to be deciphered."
"You truly think that the old Knights of the Vigil would simply write down the path to bypassing the safeguards they put in place?" Reynald asked dubiously, resting his tower shield against the ground with one gauntlet on top of it. "Seems like a fool's hope, though stranger things have happened, I admit."
"I think we've been fortunate so far..." Greywulf cut in, keeping his voice low as he glanced about the room. "No creatures. No monsters guarding this place. I expected more from the description of Odren and the others."
"Perhaps the presence of Helm's power is strong enough here in this Temple to repel the creatures below." Anomen suggested, but his brown eyes flashed as he saw what Greywulf was getting at. "Or perhaps the guardians of this level have yet to show themselves. Be on your guard, friends. We are never safe so long as we remain within Watcher's Keep."
The pair split, Nalia following closely behind Reynald as they began checking each room along the sides of the Temple hall, while Greywulf and Anomen began flipping through the different tomes and implements scattered about the main podium and tables surrounding the altar. Nalia stepped through the doorway into a new room, murmuring spells under her breath as she scanned the room, reaching out with one hand.
"My lady? Is something amiss?"
Nalia ignored Reynald's inquiry for a moment, before pausing and sighing, turning away from the room. "No, my knight. I was simply casting a spell to identify any sources of magic within the room. I am sure that whatever key exists to open our path, it will be of a magical nature. We could search every barrel and crate, or some divination can do the job for us."
"I see... then with your permission I shall guard you while you work your spellcraft." Reynald offered. "I would not wish to see you taken by surprise while you weave your magics."
"My, but you are the protective one, aren't you?" Nalia tossed behind her as they came to a new doorway, this room filled with a few knicknacks, most of them looking to be temple implements like candlesticks and oil to light their torches and pyres with. She began her spell again, seemingly oblivious to the former knight behind her, shifting uncomfortably.
He fidgeted a moment, watching her with shield at guard and sword ready... perhaps he was being too chivalrous? She was a noblewoman, after all, and deserved every courtesy that befitted a woman in her position... but he would be a fool to consider her like every other pretty face that could be found in the Government District of Athkatla each day. He tried to clear his mind and focus- he would be no use in a fight if consistently distracted by the beauty he had charged himself to protect.
Perhaps she sensed his mental debate within, but she sighed and turned back to him as they trudged to a new doorway after her second set of identify spells had faded away. "Come, we should keep searching. Perhaps my studies into this place excited my imagination too much, but I had envisioned much more locked away in this Keep. Rods and wands of spellcraft lost to legend, or perhaps some tomes with forgotten knowledge."
Reynald glanced in the room a few feet down the hall and waved at Nalia with a grin across his face. "Perhaps this might pique your curiosity?"
Nalia stepped into what looked like a miniature library, with shelves and shelves of books across each wall. In the center of the room was a small marble pedestal with a glass cover over a book lying within. Nalia started to dart forward, then stopped abruptly, shaking her head with a self-deprecating smile. "Foolish- I would be a fool not to check a place such as this for traps. Whatever lies within that case is surely valuable- perhaps the key to advancing further in this dungeon, or perhaps the magic I was hoping to find here. Regardless, we must get that book."
"As you say, milady." Reynald nodded, gazing through the room as if to spy a sudden trap or an enemy approaching at the discovery of something of value. Nalia knelt at the doorway, running her fingers up and down the sides of the frame, until she finally found a small indentation- she smiled with self-satisfaction, removing a small knife from her belt and prying at it until it popped open and revealed a mechanism inside. She peered at it for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "A dart trap... easily fixed. I'd expected something more complex."
She spoke a simple word of power and pointed a finger at the gears inside, letting a crackle of lightning shatter the parts within. Striding into the room without fear, Nalia examined the glass case and the marble pedestal- nothing she could see, but it had, admittedly, been some time since she'd seriously spent time practicing her skills at detecting traps and disarming them. The dart one at the door was an easy find, one that could be seen and fixed by any rogue with a few months of experience at the job. She'd focused on her magics for quite some time now... those were what she'd defend her home with, not simple thuggery and pickpocketing skill.
Which made it all the more strange, at least in her mind, that she was spending so much time trying to find these traps with the naked eye- magic would do the trick in half the time- a simple Detect Traps spell would reveal all but the most heavily cloaked snares, even if disarming the trap was a different story. Was it because she had an audience? Maybe- the former knight was charming, in his own way, and he obviously thought a great deal of her. Perhaps doing it by hand was a little way of showing off to him? Still, showing off would do little good if she missed something and got one of them killed...
Nalia stood up and glanced back at Reynald. "I cannot see any obvious snares, but I should not wish harm upon either of us. A quick spell..."
A white flash caused Reynald to raise his arm to shield his eyes for a moment- Nalia blinked once, twice, then gazed at the pedestal with obvious unhappiness. "Blasted dungeon... some kind of pressure plate underneath the book, I think. Running through the entire marble- I shan't be able to disturb it without setting the trap off."
"Then allow me to dispose of the trap for you." Reynald bowed, raising his sword and stepping up to the pedestal. "You might wish to step back, just in case this does not work as well as I hope..."
Nalia saw his intent and moved behind him as Reynald reared back, then swung at the middle of the pedestal with all his strength. To a normal sword, the marble would have proven far too strong and shattered the weapon on impact. With the combination of Reynald's not-inconsiderable strength and the enchanted steel of his word, the blade cut almost halfway through before becoming lodged inside.
Reynald yanked the sword out with a grunt and staggered back a few paces, preparing to swing again- "No need, my knight... I sense that your first strike cut through some of the mechanisms running through the pedestal. It should be safe to retrieve... thank you for your assistance."
Nalia removed the glass case, setting it down gently before reaching out and snatching the book for it's resting place- nothing. Reynald laughed once, exhaling with relief. "Ah... tis' good to know for certain we are safe. To tell the truth, I was not certain we were safe despite your assurances. Your magic provides clarity I could only wish for."
"Sometimes such clarity is not worth it," Nalia laughed, gesturing at the floor- underneath the dirt and dust, but uncovered by their footsteps since entering, small holes could be seen. Reynald swallowed heavily as he understood the kind of danger they had been facing a moment ago. "Do not fear- I would not have taken the book were I not sure of our safety."
"I believe you milady... but if you please, warn me when such traps lie in wait for us next time. I should think my nerves would last longer this way." Reynald smiled, wiping a small sheen of sweat from his brow, leaving a trail of dirt across his forehead.
Nalia laughed at the sight, then nodded with a shrug, raising a handkerchief to wipe the dirt away. He only reddened a bit as she pulled away, looking down with interest at the tome they'd procured. Reynald eventually took note as well, looking over her shoulder at the tome- there were several drawings and sketches of humanoid figures and the arcane mechanics of summoning words. He could read little of the writing, most of it done in a combination of elvish script and dwarven runes, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. "If I might, milady, just what kind of book have you uncovered? Is this a way to descend further?"
Nalia smiled as she turned another page, her eyes finally resting upon what she'd been seeking since reading the first few lines of script... the control words to the summoning rituals. Given more time and some research material, she might even be able to augment the existing ritual... but no time now. Even so, this was a treasure she would keep by her side often- it would be quite a surprise for any rival or enemy to see a golem summoned to the material plane with just a few arcane words, after all. "No... no, my noble knight, but a valuable tool nonetheless. I am sure you will get a chance to see its power in action before we leave this place... for now we should continue searching."
Across the room in the main hall, Anomen glanced at Greywulf as the wizard picked up a pair of tongs, one half of them so rusted and broken that they fell apart as soon as he lifted it from it's long resting place. The squire arched an eyebrow as Greywulf grunted, setting it back down. "Time has not been kind to this place, it would seem."
"No doubt." Greywulf noted with a slight cough at the dust raised from his disturbing the tools resting on the table before him. "Still, I'll take this over the alternative. Demons or shades crawling out of every corner, looking to tear us apart..."
"I admit, this seems too simple." Anomen nodded, grunting with effort as he pulled a drawer open, releasing a billow of dust from the insides- he peered within, picking out a small glowing stone that he paused to examine. The sight of it grabbed Greywulf's attention for a moment, but he shrugged as soon as he recognize it. "I take it this will not help us proceed through the Keep?"
"Doubtful- looks like a bronze Ioun stone to me. Very useful for wizards and sorcerers... I never use them, myself." Greywulf tossed behind him as he walked to a different set of tomes that were stacked in the back corner of the room by a pedestal of Helmite armor. "Tried one for a while, I kept getting distracted by the bloody thing floating around my head- messed with my peripheral vision too much. Might as well hold onto it though- never hurts to have a few more magic trinkets."
"From the stories I have heard of Watcher's Keep, I am sure we will find much more than mere trinkets within this dungeon." Anomen paused, glancing at Nalia. "I... overheard some of what Lady Nalia spoke to you earlier. Her motivations for helping us in this venture are... not quite as selfless as I had previously imagined. I do not doubt that she will be of great use to us, but she has her own agenda, I am certain. Solaufein and Reynald had a few arguments over this very fact- they imagined me deaf to their debates, but I am not quite so dense as they imagine."
"Hnh." Greywulf chuckled, picking up one of the books and blowing the top layer of dust off before opening it, taking care to make certain the spine of the book did not collapse and collapse in his hands. "It's surprising how much people will say right in front of you when they think you a fool. I've used that little tidbit to my own advantage on occasion. Imoen certainly does, though I think she knows I know. Or maybe she doesn't. I'm never quite sure."
Anomen laughed, tucking the magical stone into his rucksack before resting one hand on the altar itself as he looked at Greywulf evenly. "Treasure the time you still have with your sister, Greywulf. I look at you and Imoen and remember my own dear Moira... I would venture most anything to be given more time with her. I had thought that bringing her murderer to justice would have brought me peace, but I find my heart still enraged whenever I think of Saerk."
"You made the right choice in letting him live." Greywulf affirmed, setting the book down after ensuring there was nothing overly intriguing within before moving to the altar itself, checking the sides and alcove within for anything of use. "You kept your vows and brought him to justice instead of taking revenge. Keldorn would have been proud."
Anomen closed his eyes and bowed his head, smiling lightly. "I like to think so."
"Hold- this may be something of import." Greywulf slid a thin book from the altar's side, opening it gently. Unlike the rest of the books and parchments lying about in the abandoned Temple, the paper was not yellow and crumbling, or showed any effects of aging. The symbol of Helm was emblazoned on the cover, with flowing script penned in red ink- or what they hoped was red ink- from top to bottom on each page inside.
"I'm not familiar with the language," Greywulf remarked with a frown, giving it to Anomen as the sorcerer leaned on his quarterstaff. "I was able to read the runes on the wall descending down to this level, but not these? Unusual..."
"Perhaps not." Anomen smiled, the corners of his mustache curling upward. "This is a code that priests of Helm sometimes pen their important rituals and documents in. I imagine there is another scroll to translate the writing located somewhere, but thankfully I have the training necessary to read this without such aid. It is an old version, but I can make it out easily enough, I think."
"Place the Book and Candle upon the Altar! Celebrate the Holy Name, forever praised and renowned! Summon the Faithful, gather at the Altar! Witness His glory and triumph, ring the Sacred Bell! As it is written, the Ritual has begun. Let the Bell ring forth a second time, in honor of the Holy One as His name shall forever ring across the lands. Let the Ritual Candle be lit, in honor of the Holy One as His name shall forever be a glowing beacon to the faithful while the Sacred Book shall be placed open upon the Altar."
"Let the consecrated wisdom of the Holy Word bless the Faithful, let the Bell ring forth a final time in joyous celebration of His name, praised and triumphant to Eternity's end, the Ritual is complete." Anomen had scarcely finished speaking before the entire temple began rumbling, long cracks forming along the sides of the walls and along the ceiling and floors. The squire nearly toppled over but caught himself at the last moment- Greywulf crouched and flipped his quarterstaff up to guard position before the rumbling stopped, leaving nothing but the sound of trickling rock and dust echoing through the chamber.
"You have found something, I trust? Surely that was not normal..." Reynald called out to Anomen as he and Nalia hurried back to the altar, about halfway across the room when another boom echoed through the room, the sound of rock splitting violently. On all sides of the room, the stone coffins that lined the walls were cracking open and bluish mist was emerging from others while bones began clattering within others.
Greywulf cursed as the others came and positioned themselves in a semi-circle, watching as the guardians of the Keep finally made themselves known. There wasn't much cover in the room aside from a few tables, the stone pillars supporting the ceiling, and the altar itself. The altar... Greywulf's eyes darted to the tome in Anomen's gauntlet- the book. Up near the ceiling, hanging from a beam between the swords crossed that joined the stone roof... a giant bell. No sign of any candle... the half-elf cursed a second time as the spirits of Helm's servants and skeletons bearing swords and shields with Helm's symbol finally formed and began advancing on their group. He was not looking forward to mounting a search for a candle while under attack by the spirits of the dead...
"Ah... I do not wish to dictate to you how you make use of your god-powers, but perhaps now might be a good time to see if your powers still work within these walls-?" Anomen voiced, hurriedly stuffing the book in his pack before hefting his shield and mace.
Greywulf squeezed his eyes shut, pictured the portals of magic opening that would sweep him and the others into the Pocket Plane of Bhaal's dimension... and with a fizzle of magic, his heart sunk. "Damn. I hate this place already..."
X X X X X X
The rush of magic was deafening, but the sound dissipated quickly as the five adventurers materialized into their own plane of existence once more. Jaheira shook off the lingering tickle of magic that always clung to her skin whenever she experienced the magic of Greywulf's Pocket Plane- she'd gotten used to it at this point, but it was never fun.
"Ah... Boo is much happier to be back with our feet on solid ground! Blue sky and solid earth beneath our boots!" Minsc exclaimed, raising his massive arms as he grinned, slapping the back of his new druid companion, Cernd nodding with a contented smile.
"I cannot help but agree with you- the bounty of nature has no equal among mortals. Free to all, if only they possess the eyes to see." Cernd inhaled sharply, letting the sun warm his bare chest. They were standing on what looked like the road into a small settlement- the village looked to be composed of mud-brick houses with straw and thatch roofs, with a few made of stone and wood.
"You surfacers sicken me at times." Viconia rolled her eyes, glancing around them with an unusual look of worry upon her features. "We should leave this place- the people here in this town were not... hospitable, when I was summoned here by Greywulf."
"You sound concerned, Viconia." Jaheira remarked, letting only a hint of sarcasm into her tone. "Still having trouble making your way without the rest of us to watch your back, hmm? I cannot imagine why- your demeanor is normally so engaging."
Viconia's eyes blazed as she spat in Jaheira's general direction before beginning to raise her hood- "She returns! The wicked drow returns to our midst!"
The group whirled to spy a screaming man pointing at them from the doorstep of one of the huts- he flew into his house and came back out again with a pitchfork, brandishing the weapon at the group as other villagers began emerging from their own homes. Apparently the blaze of magic and energy that had brought them back was not so subtle as to keep them unnoticed."She shall not escape justice again- capture the wicked elf and bring her back to the stake! if ropes were not enough to secure her then we shall nail her to her bonds this time!"
"These people were going to burn you at the stake when Greywulf teleported you to us?" Aerie asked in shock, backing away from the rapidly growing mob. "What did you do to them?"
"I did nothing, darthirii!" Viconia shouted, whirling back to the mob that was approaching. "You rivvin are mad! I did nothing to any of you other than seek sanctuary for a few nights! I sought only to make my way across the surface world without molestation- why do you persecute me so?"
"You are a creature of evil and darkness, my brethren! A creature of foulness and deceit, bent only on our destruction! You shall be burned and purified in the Maid of Misrule's power!"
"Hold, friends..." Cernd stepped in front of the group, raising his hands as he stared the mob down with surprising calm. "To condemn an entire breed for the sins of some is no way to live your life. This woman is drow, but is no enemy of the surface world. If you judge yourselves to be more than mere beasts of the field, then consider your actions and those who are affected by them."
His words had little effect- one young man stepped from the crowd, hurling a rock that bounced off of Cernd's chest, leaving a nasty red welt. "You would dare defend her kind? Her dark and fiendish kin rose up from their underground homes and killed my father and my brother! They are all evil, I tell you! All of them!"
"Do you dare stand with the dark elf whore and defend her from Beshaba's judgment?" the first man who had incited the mob screeched, thrusting his pitchfork at them as he edged forward. "Allies of the foul creature! Allies of the drow!"
"Stand down your weapons!" Jaheira commanded, her voice and presence enough to give them pause, but even the sight of her leveled spear did not dissuade them completely. "We will defend Viconia, by bloodshed if necessary. There is no need for any of you to lose your lives in this foolishness."
As the mob continued to press forward, Cernd grunted, mentally preparing himself as he stepped back in line with Jaheira. "Believe it or not, this is not the first time I have had to face a mob intent on burning me at the stake.."
Jaheira glanced at the other druid, snorting with disbelief as she deflected an incoming arrow with the shaft of her spear. "And how did you resolve that situation?"
A hurtling bottle of flaming liquid soared over their heads, shattering behind them and cutting their slow retreat off. Cernd raised a forearm in defense, looking back to Jaheira as the druid gritted her teeth in frustration. "We retreated."
"Fantastic."